The Murder
With the sky now theirs,
and blackened shadows everywhere
who defends this atmospheric layer,
as other flocks never dare
rarely overthrown,
as they will take blood out on one of their own
harvest of speak is by killing the weak,
protecting the impact of a predatorial leak
but be blessed with an infestation,
and your state will stay in aberration
poets pose this unmistakable label,
pulling thy beak deep from out thy fable
the forever hovering hay man on a stick,
wasn't enough to scare these crows
I'll just enjoy the flight of the click,
the murder soars,
as the murder grows.
Copyright © Dylan Baker | Year Posted 2006
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